


Reign It In

by onyxblk



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Dominant Hannibal, M/M, Masturbation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Piss Play, Submissive Hannibal, Submissive Will, Urination, Watersports, dominant will, piss drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-15 23:33:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17538434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onyxblk/pseuds/onyxblk
Summary: Will lets his mind wander at this point. His eyes close and he imagines it; standing over Hannibal, with his pants unzipped and the other man still fully clothed. Hannibal is looking up at him, mouth slightly open, and Will starts to -A chill runs up his spine. Oh God.--An "unorthodox therapy session" that Will isn't too keen on...until he is.





	1. Chapter 1

Will knows this isn't what their therapy sessions are supposed to be for.

He needs to gain control of his life; his mind and body have disconnected and are taking him deeper into the minds of these killers. He's walking right into madness and Hannibal is his anchor to keep him grounded in sanity. Will needs to be reminded that he's normal and okay, not – not _this_.

“Did I hear you correctly?”

“I want you to piss on me.”

Will takes a deep breath and slowly nods. His eyes hurt so much. “That's what I thought you said.” Okay, he's not completely insane yet. Dr. Lecter did just ask Will to piss on him.

“How is that going to help me not go crazy, exactly?”

“It's an exercise,” Hannibal says. “When you urinate, you are in control. You can allow yourself to let the stream free, or you can stop it at any point. In order for you to feel like you can have control of things in your life, you need to start with controlling things that you know will bend to your will.”

It makes sense – horrible, horrible sense, Will thinks – but he's not wrong. 

Right?

“Do you ask all your patients to do this?” Will inquires, leaning forward. He focuses on Hannibal's shoulder, clad in a rich brown plaid pattern. He sees a smile from the corner of his eye.

“You're not my patient, officially,” Hannibal says, reminding him. The smile doesn't fade. “I am known for rather unorthodox methods, so if you would rather not, then we can move onto another tactic.”

Will should say yes, because this is too unorthodox. This is getting into a territory that he's never let himself venture into. 

But - 

“Why on you, exactly?” Will asks. “Why not just...try going as usual?”

“Because that defeats the purpose. If you go as normal, you're just urinating. However, to urinate on another person gives you a sense of power that you do not experience in your every day life.”

Will lets his mind wander at this point. His eyes close and he imagines it; standing over Hannibal, with his pants unzipped and the other man still fully clothed. Hannibal is looking up at him, mouth slightly open, and Will starts to -

A chill runs up his spine. Oh God.

“If – If I don't like it, we stop,” Will tries. He can't believe he's agreeing to this.  
“We will stop,” Hannibal agrees.

–--

Will pulls up to Hannibal's Baltimore home later that evening. He's thrumming with nervous energy, because he knows if they had put this off, he would've been too fearful to go on with it any other time.

Hannibal seemed eager when he said yes to dinner. It could have been Will's imagination.

He can't help but feel he's stepping into something more than just an odd therapy session. The imaginary scene from earlier has been playing in his mind, over and over and over again. His cock had strained against the fabric of his jeans all afternoon, driving back to Wolf Trap. Will may be crazy, but he isn't blind; Hannibal is an attractive man. A strange, attractive man that wants Will to pee on him -

Will shifts in the driver's seat and adjusts himself. He doesn't know if he can keep it down.

Eventually he does drag himself to the door, erection and all. His only saving grace is the shadows of the porch lamp hiding most of the evidence, and when Hannibal opens the door he doesn't seem to notice anything amiss. 

Or he's too polite to say anything.

He greets Will and leads in to the dining room. Their dinner is fantastic, with rabbit glazed with a red wine sauce. Hannibal makes sure Will has plenty to drink.

Afterwards, they go into the study. The fireplace is on, crackling ever so often. Will feels the heat of it intensely and stares into his glass of wine. His stomach cramps with anticipation.

Hannibal doesn't bring out anything special. There's no blanket or tarp, just the posh rug underneath their shoes. 

“Are you ready?” Hannibal asks, holding out his hand to take Will's glass.

Will almost shakes his head, but finds himself nodding instead. He lets the other man take his drink, closes his eyes and licks his lips, trying not to psyche himself out.

He hears a dull _thud_ and opens his eyes to find Hannibal on his knees. His breath hitches at the sight. He's taken off his suit jacket and tie, but his vest and button down still remain. The fringe of his bangs falls over his eyes, and the glow of the fire is making his features even sharper than usual.

He's a handsome man, and Will finds himself wanting to ruin him.

The control that was mentioned in their session feels alight in Will's hands. He subconsciously starts to undo his belt and unzip his pants. His cock is straining against his boxers. Slowly, so slowly, he reaches and pulls it out of the slit of his underwear. 

Hannibal looks at him with something akin to worship. He waits patiently for Will to start, hands behind his back with no intention of pulling Will forward or taking him in his own hand.

Will can feel the ache in his bladder. He breaths in harshly and holds his cock, aiming it just so.

“Where can I - ?”

“Anywhere,” Hannibal says.

_Anywhere_ , Will thinks. He's being given control, maybe too much.

The stream starts small, but as the seconds pass Will forces a steadier flow. It hits Hannibal on the neck, and then onto his chest, before Will pulls up and sees his piss splashing onto the man's mouth. He can feel himself start to harden as he keeps urinating, and it hurts – his cock twitches in his hand, both wanting and not wanting it at the same time.

He doesn't let up. The musk of his release fills Will's nose and makes his eyes water. 

Will can't take his eyes off of Hannibal. The man has his eyes closed now, but his mouth is parted just so. If Will moves up just a bit -

“Please,” Hannibal says, as if he read Will's mind. 

Will focuses solely on Hannibal's mouth, and he keeps pushing. Hannibal opens it wider and now Will is pissing inside of his mouth, can hear the liquid pool inside before Hannibal _swallows_ \- 

“Christ,” Will whispers. He can feel himself almost empty. His cock is hardening more. His hand starts to move up and down his cock, milking the last few spurts that land on Hannibal's vest.

“Keep going,” Hannibal tells him. Will can't stop, regardless. His hand moves faster and fast, and the slick feel of his piss and pre-cum makes it worse. He has to come. He needs it more than anything right now.

He chokes out, “God, Hannibal - “ and moans brokenly, watching as his next release hits Hannibal's neck and collar. He stutters out a few more harsh words, nearly doubles over because it's too much.

Will doesn't fall, though. He's breathing heavily and sweating profusely, and he looks at Hannibal with a dazed expression. 

Hannibal looks just as worse for wear, with stained clothes and a flushed face, and Will feels something settle in his chest at the sight; more arousal, satisfaction -

\- and power.


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal is a greedy man.

The moment that Will agreed to this _therapy_ session, his inner monster had grinned from ear to ear.

The most delicate, sensitive part of Will Graham – aside from his mind, as vulnerable and impressionable as it was – is Hannibal's favorite. The arousal that he can scent every so often from the man has had him weak in the knees, just begging for Hannibal to lean down and devour him.

And now, he's had the opportunity.

The softening cock in his mouth is wonderful; the stench of his release and his urine is overpowering to Hannibal's sensitive nose, but he would bathe in it if possible. The tender flesh yields to the pressure of his tongue as he licks and suckles and cleans him. The salty flavor only spurs Hannibal on, and he sinks down further until his nose presses against course hairs. The man above him gasps, as it's too much too soon, but Hannibal cannot relent – it's too much for him in a different way, too indulgent.

Hannibal has never been one to contain his desires.

Will's pure essence is in this cock. Bodily fluids of any sort can flow out of it from any direction, depending on the circumstance. It's one of the reasons that Hannibal suggested their session for this evening, because he gets to sample everything. The urine that soaks the back of his tongue is alighting, and the sperm that followed is grounding, and the blood – that will come with time, Hannibal knows, but soon. (very soon)

It is the closest Hannibal can get to actually eating the man, and the juices are just as important as the meat itself.

Above him, Will is breathing harshly. He looks like he, too, wants to consume someone tonight. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are black with arousal. His cock is soft, but Hannibal is sure he feels a valiant attempt at coming back to life on his tongue.

He pulls off of Will, running his tongue up his length to catch any spare drop, and swallows when he sits back and away. 

“Hannibal - “ Will tries. He doesn't know what to say, too caught up in the previous moment to voice himself properly. But Hannibal can see – Hannibal sees all of the emotions that make up Will Graham in this moment, and he is delighted. The want, the need, the power that radiates off of the other man tells Hannibal exactly what Will wants to do to him. Hannibal wants him to. However.

It's too soon for him to relent; this is just a taste. This is the first course in the many they will have. This is to tease Will, to make him want to seek out Hannibal again. This is dependence that is disguised as power.

He stands, and Will follows after making himself decent.

The bathroom he leads Will to isn't small by any means, but it's small enough to have them close. Will can surely smell the musk that Hannibal still embodies. He keeps himself angled so that Will can also see his straining erection. 

He hears another audible swallow and smiles internally. 

“How are you feeling, Will?” Hannibal asks. He gathers some towels for later and a wash cloth for now, dampening it with water and a mild scented soap to clean his face. 

“...Tense,” comes Will's reply. Hannibal can see the stiffness of his shoulders and the lock of his jaw. “I didn't expect it to be like that.”

“What did you expect?”

“Humiliation. Embarrassment. Something not...” Will trails off. He watches Hannibal wipe his neck, sees the tacky skin come away clean.

“Intense?” Hannibal guesses. “Arousing?”

“Yes, is the answer to that.” Will shudders. “You didn't have to do that last part - “

Hannibal's mouth quirks upwards. “I knew the possible aftermath of the exercise. I would rather help you than send you away in the heat of the moment,” he confesses.

“But you're not obligated - “

“I know I am not, Will. This was not an obligation by any means,” Hannibal says. He wipes away some more of Will's release, and can practically hear Will's mind overloading with that information.

Will shuffles from foot to foot. “Does that mean you liked it?”

Hannibal pauses. Assesses. 

He won't tell Will how it actually made him feel – invigorated, vibrant, the same exposure he gets whenever he sees a creation come to life – and instead simply nods.

“The focus was therapy, but I will admit that I heavily enjoyed myself. The act of submission, while mild, is a new experience that I am curious about.”

The room goes silent. Hannibal finishes cleaning his exposed skin, planning to tend to his clothes when Will leaves, and turns slightly back to the other man. He looks like a deer in headlights; realization and opportunity play on his features.

“Next Friday, seven-thirty?” Hannibal inquires. “My office or home?”

“Home,” Will says, voice soft but stern.

Hook, line, and sinker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more extensive therapy coming soon!


	3. Chapter 3

The week was dragging on for Will.

Their previous session has left him with a quiet sense of agony and anticipation. Normally, the crime scenes and broken bodies that Jack insists he look at would fill his mind, but the past few days haven’t had anything to do with work. Every bruise or blood stain or gruesome display recedes in his mind moments after he leaves, and is instead replaced with Hannibal.

Hannibal, on his knees in front of Will. Hannibal, opening his mouth like Will was offering him a prize. Hannibal, who took and took and left the profiler weak in the knees from his submission. 

Hannibal, who he has an appointment with at the end of this very long week. Will doesn’t know if he can make it.

He wants to distract himself. He’s over analyzing their session – although Will is reluctant to still call it that. Appointments, sessions, _therapy_ \- they are all anything but. The moment that Hannibal even suggested pissing on him was the moment that their relationship as patient and psychiatrist ended. 

But Will doesn’t know what else to call the two of them. Not lovers, certainly. 

_Not yet,_ his mind supplies.

He liked what happened. He liked it a lot. He doesn’t want to stop by any means, but he wants to ask if – if what? If Hannibal has feelings for him? If he suggested this exercise to fulfill some fantasy of his own? It’s likely, but Will knows Hannibal wouldn’t manipulate him like that.

He could probably tell the feelings that Will also has – his could be not? Sure, he’s tried to hint at liking Alana, to steer Hannibal off tract from the true object of his attention. But he’s smart enough to know Will. Smart enough to know when he’s lying, and also know that he’s open to things like…like pissing. 

Another new development, not unwanted.

His cock stirs in his pants at the reminder. 

Will barely makes it to his car. Jack had called him out, and he just wrapped up another scene – the Ripper, again. It’s about 9 in the morning and even after seeing the display left for them, as beautiful as it was horrific, he can’t help himself. The mere memory of Hannibal has him reaching to undo his belt as soon as he slams the car door shut.

His eyes flutter close at the first touch. He shudders and chokes on a low whine in his throat. He can still feel the warmth of Hannibal’s mouth. He can smell the phantom stench of musk that he released on the man. He wants – he wants it again. He wants more.

“Hannibal – “ He says, squeezing himself and twisting his wrist. Will wants to hear him. 

He dials his phone with his other hand still jerking on his cock.

It rings, and rings, and Will realizes the man is probably at work. Fuck. But what if he –

The voicemail chimes in, and Will can’t stop himself.

“Hannibal – “ He says again. He leans forward to press his forehead against the steering wheel and keens, jerking himself quickly. “I need you – I can’t stop thinking – “ another twist, another moan. His palm is wet with pre-cum and he can feel it soaking his boxers. “I can still feel you, I can’t help it…” 

He feels like he’s confessing his sins at this moment. He’s never felt so vulnerable before. He’s by himself, a needy thing with no one to anchor him. He doesn’t feel in control at all.

Will stops talking into the phone, but he still moans and breathes out little sighs of pleasure. His hand is moving faster, and faster, until his peak is reached. He lets himself be a little louder as he climaxes, little murmurs of, _”Hannibal, Hannibal, Hannibal – “_ until he stops coming. 

But he isn’t done completely.

He lets out a whimper at the first stream of piss that lets out. He didn’t go before he left, he didn’t have time, and he drank so much coffee to keep himself awake –

“Fuck, fuck – I can’t – “ Will hisses as he keeps pissing. The front of his pants and his steering wheel are now soaked with his releases and he shakes. His cock jerks with each new wave and he closes his eyes tightly at the overwhelming stench.

Eventually it stops, and Will is panting. His hand is wet as well as practically everything else. The phone in his hand still shows that he’s on Hannibal’s voicemail.

He hangs up and tilts his head back. 

He’s just glad he parked far away from the police tape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal is going to have a good afternoon checking his voicemail. :)

**Author's Note:**

> We're gonna try a multi-chapter fic folks! Tell me, what would you like to see?


End file.
